Love times 5
by cedari
Summary: A boy and girl meet. They fall in love and then it all falls apart.HrD. Sorry for the lame summary, better one inside ....COMPLETE!
1. I can't keep loving you It hurts too mu

**Love times 5**

**Cedar1**

Inspired by the French film 5 times 2 by François Ozon. It's an amazing film and my story is of the same lay out and some of the plots and ideas are also from it. So this is a **BIG DISCLAIMER** to them so please don't sue me.

Oh and of course one to JK Rowling for the characters

Important note: There will be five parts. Each part detailing a time in Hermione and Draco's relationship starting from their divorce to when they first met. i.e. going backwards.

**Warning**: This is not a fluffy fic and will not have a happy ending as ultimately it's a deterioration of their marriage. But there will be bits of romance, comedy, and drama so if you decide to give it a chance I hope you enjoy it...

Cedar1

**Love times 5**

**Chapter 5: I can't keep loving you. It hurts too much**

"Do you agree with the terms? Miss Granger?"

"Yes"

"Mr Malfoy?"

There was a pause, and the room was plunged into an awkward silence. Mr Taylor's eyebrows were raised in question, eyes staring at the man who sat beside her, waiting patiently for an answer. Hermione stole a quick glance at him from the corner of her eye. His eyes were glazed over, a mist covering the normally sharp grey pools. His chin was resting on his right palm, which in turn was on the chair rest. He hadn't shaved a first. A dark shadow underlined the area beneath his mouth. It was good to see it was affecting him as well, and not just her. She looked down at her hands. Nails were bitten to death, leaving behind a jaggered, unruly edge. Her clothes weren't much better. Crumpled, stained, and looking like they had been submerged under a pile a crap in a forgotten cupboard. Which of course they had been. She had been caught behind in her washing and had nothing else to wear. His hair was longer then when she had last seen him. It was pulled back and tied with a black ribbon. She didn't like it. He had wanted to do it for ages but only went for his daily trip to the barber because she had said she would hate it, for it would make him look too much like his father. It was probably a show for her. A finger in the air, telling her how free he was without her restraining him and restricting him. Blaise doubtlessly had no problem with it being the gold digging whore she was, the smell of money was probably too strong for her to risk sharing her thoughts on his hair, or for that matter anything that wasn't concerned with jewellery or clothes. Hermione's hands curled up into neat, tight fists by her side at the very thought of that anorexic bitch.

"Mr Malfoy?"

This time he answered.

"Sorry I was in a world of my own. Yes. Yes I do agree to all the terms."

Her hands relaxed, all that pent up stress, hatred, collapsed in one swift blow. So it was finally over.

"If you could sign these papers."

What could only be described as a pack of crisp white sheets was pushed in her direction. Draco had his own set. Typed in large bold, underlined letters, so there could be no misunderstanding, were the words 'Divorce settlement.' It wasn't that long ago that she was signing one that said 'Marriage agreement'. She felt faintly guilty as she picked up the biro and the pads of her fingers felt slightly wet and slimy against its hard plastic coating. She felt like she was betraying that eternally naive and innocent girl that lived within her, that had images of a lasting marriage and an old couple who loved each other just as much on their sixtieth wedding anniversary as the day they wed. She turned to glance at him once more.

"A signature on each page should do it. Just to clarify on signing you shall no longer be man and wife from this day forth."

She watched as he placed the tip of the pen on the paper, lift it off, and only then put it back down again and sign his name with a flourish. In a second she had done the same.

Mr Taylor quickly swept up the paper work that littered his desk and placed them on a pile that was precariously close to tilting, and falling on to the floor.

"Well I'm sure you don't want to be here any longer. It was nice seeing you again and I wish you both luck in the future."

Hermione wanted to smack that patronising smile off his face. Luck? As if! You could practically see the galleon signs reflecting off the white of his eyes. She had noticed on her entrance the queue of people waiting to see him. The line of unhappy couples who wanted this little, red- faced man to end their personal tortures. She could practically see him planning the next state of the art broom he was going to buy, the house in the country. She stood up, offered him no such politeness and made a brisk stride to the door. She just wanted to get out of here. She was beaten to the punch by Draco whose long fingers were already curled around the door handle. They made eye contact for the first time that day. Looking within those beautiful eyes she instantly began to regret her decision. Perhaps she could just shred those condemning signatures into pieces, drop them into a bin and burn them till they were nothing more than charcoal bits. She closed her eyes tightly and looked away. No. She had been through enough. They both had.

As if he was able to read her mind Draco opened the door and paused to let her pass. She didn't trust herself to look at him one last time and instead gave a nod of thanks before she walked away. Her heels clacked against the wood flooring. Each sharp sound followed by one dull thud his heavy size 11 boots made. They continued in that fashion all the way down the corridor. She tried to quicken the pace to put some distance between her and her now ex-husband but he only seemed to want to irritate her more by keeping up with her. She could see the shiny metal door of the lift getting nearer and she slowed down, not surprisingly so did he. She pressed the button to call the lift down praying it would arrive before he did. Alas luck was not on her side and the damn button was still lit red when she could feel his presence by her side. His shoulder was very lightly touching her own or was that perhaps her own hallucination? She could smell his cologne. Still using the one she gave him last Christmas, the one that made her want to kiss him and lick him all over. Against her better judgement her heart began to quicken underneath her layers of cotton and silk and breathing was becoming increasingly hard.

Concentrate.

Concentrate.

She urged herself. She determinately watched the dial on top slide from 20 to 19 to 18 to 17... Her lips were pursed together, teeth grinding against teeth, desperate to not let one traitorous word from her sub conscious slip out. Her neck was starting to hurt from forcing it to look up and not to turn it to its side. Finally the button turned green and the doors in front of her began to slide open revealing an empty lift. Damn it! Fuck it! It was only 10 floors down and no way was she going to walk it. She was just going to have to be strong. She could do that. She was that, she scolded inwardly. About to step inside he had to break her resolve by saying her name.

"Hermione."

No she couldn't do this and she lifted her foot off the carpeted interior of the lift and turned on her heel. There was a fire exit somewhere around here. She had seen it when she had first entered this blasted building. But before she had a chance to find it a strong arm grasped her wrist and a force yanked her into the last place she wanted to be.

Angry and pissed off she watched as the doors shut, trapping her with the only person she hated as much as she loved.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"You're beautiful when you're mad." He closed in on her and tenderly caressed one of the hundred curls that had escaped the prison of her hastily tied up bun. She was temporarily shocked by his proximity and his intimate action, and for a second lost herself to it. Leaning into him, feeding off his powerful aura. But she caught herself and pushed his hand away from her hair. She lunged for the knob and pressed five. She was going to get off as soon as she could and as six had just past, floor five was the next best thing. She couldn't play this game with him, not again, not ever. She was too old for games, too tired of losing. However no sooner had she pressed five that he pushed the STOP button.

"Get the fuck out of the way Draco."

He was blocking her only chance of an escape with his tall, lean body.

"I need to talk to you."

"Don't you have Blaise for that?"

He had enough humour to laugh at her insult.

"As you can guess that isn't her strong point."

His lips had tilted to an all-knowing smirk.

"You make me sick you know that. What sick fuck would talk about how good a shag his mistress is in front of his ex- wife?"

"Blaise was never my mistress. She **is** however my girl friend. I never cheated on you when we were married."

And for that tiniest moment she believed he was telling the truth. That part of her that was never-endingly optimistic. But then she remembered what she saw...

"Girl-friend. Mistress. It's all the same to you pureblooded bastards. You know what I'm happy for you. Go and shag her as many times as you want I don't want you. I can't even recall what I saw in you in the first place."

"Don't lie to me. You saw plenty of things in me."

It happened again. He had inched his way into her personal space and had successfully forced her back against one of the three walls of the lift. His arms were planted rigidly at either side of her head, giving her no option other than to partake in this little charade of his. Well fine and she stared resolutely into his eyes.

He leaned forward.

"Do you not remember how good we were together?" His breathe tickled the hairs on her neck as his lips grazed against her left ear.

"How we just seem to fit so perfectly?" A slim finger skimmed against her breast, took a winding path to her stomach, before sliding down the coarse material of her skirt and then slipping under it and onto the smoothness of the skin of her upper thigh. Her eye lids fell closed as he began to stroke her leg. Big circles, edging closer towards the boundaries of her knickers. It would have been so easy to continue. To have him take her right there in the lift however something clicked deep within her, unlocking all that pain, all that misery which he had helped to create. It flooded her body and her mind. Everything was cramping, screaming.

"Stop it. Stop it! STOP It!" She was yelling now, her hands slapping his own eager ones. She pushed him away and stumbled onto the opposing wall. With a lunge of desperation she pressed the STOP button and the lift juddered into life, opening on the fifth floor. A wave of fresh air hit her hot face as she practically fell out of the lift. This time Draco chose not to follow her and remained leaning against the wall.

She looked at him, really looked at him. The mouth that had kissed her a million times, the arms that had wrapped around her waist during those many nights and the hair she had clutched during those times of passion. The doors began to close and he started to disappear in front of her very eyes. He was slowly exiting her life, leaving her alone standing in a deserted hallway.

"You still love me Hermione. It's not too late"

"I can't keep loving you. It hurts too much."

On those words the lift doors shut marking the end of their love affair.

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One gone four to go. Have already written two so updates should be fairly fast. But of course reviews always help...

so let me know what you think by pressing that little blue button.

Cheers Cedar1


	2. Closing the curtain

**Love times 5**

**Cedar1**

Inspired by the French film 5 times 2 by François Ozon. It's an amazing film and my story is of the same lay out and some of the plots and ideas are also from it. So this is a **BIG DISCLAIMER** to them so please don't sue me.

Oh and of course one to JK Rowling for the characters

A/N 000000000000000000 denotes a new scene time span is up to u.

Oh Blaise has undertaken a sex change and is now female in my story

**Chapter 4: Closing the curtain**

"That's a nice dress."

She was wearing a black gown that fully covered her front before revealing a toned back above layers of chiffon material.

"Where did you get it from?"

She was struggling to clasp the pearl necklace which would complete the outfit, each slip of the fingers followed by a sigh of annoyance. He moved up behind her and removed the gold hook out of her hands.

"It was my mothers. I found it in her things when I was clearing up last year."

Draco nodded. He had stopped listening for the smell of her skin and her perfume hitting his senses had brought all other activities to a standstill. He could only focus on that smell. Her smell. He hadn't been this close to her for months. They were still sleeping in separate bedrooms. Touching had been reduced to an impersonal squeeze of the shoulders or when she was feeling up to it a stroke of the cheek. A kiss was rare. A gift that Draco would revel in whenever he received it. He understood her need for space but it had been months. It was as if that one incident sapped every ounce of warmth and love from her tired body. And it's not to say he hadn't tried. He had done everything he could to take her mind off the past; flowers and chocolates, and trips to exotic cities that removed her from a house that was stained in pain. Though no matter how hard he tried that trail of misery dogged them, tearing them apart.

Her smell had now pulled him downwards so his lips were resting ever so slightly on the junction between her neck and shoulders. He could feel her watching him through the mirror. Her quick breaths were timed perfectly with his beating heart. He could almost taste her.

He could taste her. The tip of his tongue flicked over the sensitive area. A sigh escaped from her lips and he took that as an excuse to be bold, and latched onto her skin with his mouth. He lapped and sucked her up like a dying man would do an oasis in a desert. Her low moans pounding his ear drums, reverberating in his head.

Then suddenly it was gone and he was left gasping for breath and craving for more. She had forcefully pushed his head away from her body and that space that had for a few minutes been non existent now seemed, once more, bigger than ever.

The frustration that was plaguing him, for the first time, made itself known.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Running away every time I touch you, every time I kiss you."

"Don't be stupid. You better get ready or we're going to be late for your friend's party."

The door of the bathroom slammed in the wake of her exit and Draco was left staring back at his broken reflection.

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The party was Hermione's idea of hell. She was surrounded by the self proclaimed socialites of the wizarding world; witches who were keen on up keeping their status in the ranks of the elite, doing whatever necessary to claw their way to the top. They ignored Hermione of course, she was not pretty enough and had too many qualities that could have her classed as being 'nice' and 'boring.' She was the one that had slipped through their net and muddied their world. However they dealt with that quite easily, and simply forgot she was in the room.

Her husband on the other hand was the toast of the ball, even with his boring, nice, mudblood wife. Draco dragged her to this event each year - The Christmas Ball for the _Foundation of Wizarding Excellence_ – a board that funded extra schooling for the gifted, basically another word for pure-blooded rich kids. She hated the concept more than the people behind it and had let Draco know of her feelings about his association with the company on several occasions. But he had convinced her to come that first time, using her love for him as a reason, and now it had just become a tradition she loathed each time it came around.

Though in the past it had been mildly bearable for they had spent most of their time together, and when apart they would converse with their eyes from across the room. Hermione rolling her eyes at yet another droll comment and Draco jokingly glaring at her telling her to behave. But this year was different Draco had left her side as soon as they had handed in their coats to the cloakroom and had not looked at, or even for, her since. She was left alone in the corner now.

Shouts and cheering lifted her out of her thoughts and into reality. Glasses of wine were being raised, male voices were encouraging with comments such as, "Go on you lucky bastard," and the looks began. Soon heads were turning to face her, their lips smirking with cruelty. Hermione was confused for a second but as if of one mind the swarm parted presenting a path to a couple with a halo of mistletoe around them. The floating wreath had been causing awkward situations all night, but it had never received this much attention, until now it would seem.

There was her husband, whose, for the first time, cheeks were coloured with two red spots and Blaise Zabini. Unlike Draco the woman was enjoying the spot light, tossing her hair in all directions, flashing her smile to all that surrounded her. He was staring straight at her, asking for her permission. She nodded and watched her husband place a gentle kiss on the cheek of the other woman. Blaise was obviously disappointed at such a passionless response, so too the crowd who called out for 'more.' If they were any other couple this would not have happened. But they weren't. She was the woman who had stolen one of their own away from them and he was the one they wanted desperately back into the fold, by any means, no matter how indiscrete. He was staring at her again. His eyes begging her to sort the situation out, to help him. At first she thought she was doing the right thing when she nodded and then she saw the brief look of hurt in his eyes and knew it wasn't.

In slow motion she watched as he kissed Blaise. His hands cradling her model face in his hands. His lips moving against hers. She thought he would have been happy, for it would have saved face in front of his friends and maybe giving him the touch she felt she was not ready to give him yet. But that look told her everything. All he wanted was to be loved by her, to have her say 'no' and show the whole world that she was his and only his. Then she knew she was lying to herself. Her reason for nodding was that she wanted him to do the same thing she had so many nights ago, commit the same sin. She had naively thought that if they shared the same guilt she would sleep easy for once.

But it had only made things worse and deeper, for now she had tainted his heart as well.

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Hermione helped herself to another glass of red wine, her unsteady hands spilling some of the expensive liquid onto the sparkling white tablecloth. Draco watched as the crimson spot seeped into the material whilst Hermione began taking big gulps of her forth glass of alcohol. He had only seen her drunk once before, each time when she was sunk in pain. He looked around the table and saw Harry and Ginny sharing concerned looks from across the table. They had never been great friends. They tolerated each other for her, they were brought together by her. And now he could tell what they were thinking, "_What the hell had Malfoy done to their best friend_?"

His fingers curled around the stem of his wine glass tightened, until his knuckles were blanched white.

"Hermione, maybe you should slow it down a bit," urged Harry. His forced smile trying to hide his uneasiness.

Hermione waved her hand in the air in an exaggerated motion.

"No need for rescuing today Mr Potter. I am quite fine. In fact I am perfect. Nothing could be better. I have a husband who loves me."

Her head swivelled so that her dilated pupils were now fixed on him. With the elegance of a drunk she grabbed hold of the hand that had been resting on his lap and encased it around her own.

"I love him despite the fact that he kissed another woman in front of me, and even, and even..." her tone more sober, "...even when he comes home late at night stinking of her fucking perfume."

The grip around his hand tightened, conflicting with the love lorn smile that was on her face, it was squeezing harder and harder, trying desperately to break any bone, no matter how small and inconsequential. But Draco wouldn't give her the satisfaction of crumbling, especially not with her friends giving him looks that would send him to the centre of the earth if they could. With a similar smile to her own he replied to her statement, "But darling don't you remember? You gave me your permission to kiss her. Some might even say you wanted me to kiss her."

Her powerful grip instantly relaxed and she retracted the hand that was covering his. The smile on her face faltered; cracking just like their marriage. For an instant gone was the happy drunk and in her place was a woman who would permanently regret her mistakes. Though as quickly as it had appeared it vanished.

"Well hasn't this been a pleasant night. How about some music."

The low tones of a saxophone floated into the kitchen, soon followed by the deep and smooth voice of a melancholy singer. No longer able to contend with the wide eyed stares of Potter and Weasley from across the table Draco made his escape into the living room. What he saw made him stop at the doorway. In the centre of the room Hermione was swaying to the music, her hips moving in time with the seductive rhythm. Her closed eyes suddenly snapped open and caught him staring. She gave him a lazy smile and started to walk towards him. Those butterflies in his stomach made a sudden reappearance as she stepped closer. No matter how hard they fought or how much they hurt each other she was the only creature he had ever met that could make his body feel like that. As she held out her arm he fully expected her to grab hold of his hand and so was surprised when she reached out past him and grabbed Potter, who unbeknown to him had been standing behind him. She dragged him onto the dance floor and started the next show. Potter was unsure how to proceed but decided to give in to his drunken friend and began to move with her. Each touch on the other man's arm, each whisper in the ear felt like a kick in the stomach. A new monster rose within him, long gone were the fluttering butterflies. It screamed and roared, wanting her to stop. Using the power of his mind the music was brought to an abrupt end and the room was plunged into a thick, uncomfortable silence.

A throat cleared. "Well I think me and Ginny better be off. Hermione." Harry gave her a peck on the cheek. "Anytime you want to stay with us, you know you can." The couple made their way to the front door and as a second thought Harry turned round.

"Malfoy."

It wasn't a polite good bye but a warning, which Draco could not be bothered with.

"Well wasn't that just fucking perfect? I'm going to go out."

"Going to see her are you?"

"May be, may be not. I wouldn't bother waiting up." Draco went to grab his wand and his travelling cloak.

"We need to talk about this."

"No you're drunk and you need to sleep it off."

With a crack he was gone and Hermione was left in the room alone.

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She couldn't sleep. He still hadn't come back yet. Getting up from bed she made her way to the window. How had things become so messed up? And the stupid thing was she still loved him, so much. She had been stupid. They both had. They needed to stop lying and start telling the truth. A fresh start, a blank canvas, which wasn't already painted with secrets and lies. She pulled back the curtain and looked out into the night with their gleaming stars. Everything could go back to the way it had been if only they could forgive each other. And they could. She was sure of it. Closing her eyes she leaned against the glass pane.

Muffled voices brought her out of her daze. Outside two figures stood close to one another deep in conversation. It wasn't hard to guess who it was. She stepped forward and encircled her arms around him, an action which he copied.

Hermione stopped breathing.

The woman then leaned in for a kiss and was granted a peck on the cheek. They lingered in the intimate position for what seemed like for ever before she was gone in a blink of any eye.

Hermione's heart stopped.

Seeing them felt like a million knives driving into her, piercing her, cutting her up into little pieces.

As if he knew he was being watched Draco looked up and saw her at the window. At first he was shocked, though his face soon fell into one of neutrality. She couldn't read him and for the first time in her life she knew she was ready to give up, and she closed the curtain.

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A/N as ever reviews are loved, so if u fancy it press the blue button.

Cheers cedar1


	3. Neither believed his words

**Love times 5**

**By Cedar1**

Inspired by the French film 5 times 2 by François Ozon. It's an amazing film and my story is of the same lay out and some of the plots and ideas are also from it. So this is a **BIG DISCLAIMER** to them so please don't sue me.

And of course one to JK Rowling for the characters

A/N well it's been a while hasn't it. – and there was me gloating about how I had nearly finished it. But some gremlin must have been hearing, entered my computer and eaten through my system cos I lost all of it and am having to start again from scratch. Grrrr!

NE how here we go (again!) hope yall like it!

**Chapter 3:** **Neither believed his words**

His warmth crept over her like an extra blanket. They were lying next to one another in bed. His chest pressed against her back, his long fingers drawing winding designs on her swollen belly.

"What do you want?"

"A baby."

"No you idiot. It's a bit late even if you didn't. No. What I meant was, boy or girl."

His fingers stopped as he thought about his answer.

"To tell you the truth, I don't care, as long as it's healthy. Boy. Girl. Squib."

He got a pinch on the arm for that last comment and in return she got a throaty chuckle.

"I don't care. I really don't. I thought I would want a boy. You know, to continue the Malfoy name and all but..."

"But?"

"All I want is a family."

Hermione's next breath caught in her throat and she placed her hand above his own. He nuzzled his head further into the crook of her neck and dragged her body closer into his. Soon the bedroom was filled with Draco's snores and Hermione's laboured breathing. However unlike her husband she wasn't enjoying a dreamless sleep but was wide awake, a past memory replaying in her head keeping her from sleeping. She had thought about telling him, getting it out of her system and into the open. Spilling everything that was so tightly wound up within her. But the possible consequences kept her from opening her mouth and telling him the truth. The other possibility was to obliviate herself so she wouldn't have to continue living with it but in her condition it was risky and she wouldn't do anything to harm the baby.

The baby.

The thought made her smile. It would make things right again. To carry a baby that was made by the two of them, then to be able to love it and hold it. It would remind her that she loved him and only him, and all those treacherous thoughts that hid in the corners of her mind and her heart could be forgotten.

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Hermione perused over the contents of her fridge. Crumbly cheeses with fruit filled one tray, traditional mature cheddar and salty feta lay side by side on the next and at the bottom her favourite, Stilton. Hermione reached out for the yellow cheese streaked with blue veins. This had been her craving. Cheese, of all varieties, of all colours and textures; by itself, no bread or biscuits for her. Looking around the kitchen Hermione found the knife she was looking for. She licked her fingers in anticipation. Draco always made sure they were well stocked.

What happened next would be remembered only as a blur.

The grip on the knife suddenly loosened and the steel blade clattered to the floor. Within the next second Hermione was on the ground, her head bent over and her hands over her stomach. She felt like she was being pummelled by fists. Bang. Bang. Hitting her over and over again, relentless and unforgiving. She screamed till her voice was hoarse and her throat burned, but no one came to her rescue. Her fingers were wet, slick with a warm liquid. A red flower was blossoming on her white night dress. Petals growing and spreading whilst she cried.

"No. No. No. No. No"

She shook her head from side to side.

She barely remembered the fire coming to life in the kitchen and the horrified look on her best friend's face.

All she could think was... "No."

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Work was shit. Forms and letters littered his desk. The ministry was in chaos, still. The war had ended years ago but the paper trail it left was never ending. Draco threw the newest memo into the bin and held his arms in front of him, stretching his cramped muscles.

"Mr Malfoy. You have a Ginny Weasley waiting for you." The nasal tones of his secretary cut through his lethargy.

Weasley?

Why did she want to speak to him?

Hermione.

Fear and worry flooded through his insides and twisted them into tight, tangled knots. All the saliva in his mouth evaporated away and his tongue stuck to his palate in a way that he could barely utter his next words.

"Transmit her through."

The younger Weasley's face began to appear in the mirror on his table and her tear stained cheeks were enough for him to know.

"I'm so sorry Malfoy."

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The angry flames licked the sides of the marble fireplace, every so often spitting out a used bit of coal on the priceless Persian rug that graced its side. Draco watched the threads sizzle underneath the hot ember. Little puffs off smoke acting as the carpet's distress signal. Although his mother would probably be turning and twisting in her grave at such disrespect Draco didn't care, not for that patch or the other ten that charred the antique. Soon the offending piece of coal disintegrated into a pile of white ash, the heat having finally got to it, and it died right in front of him.

That's what he felt like. Like a used bit of charcoal that could no longer contain the burning that was eating him up from the inside out. However unlike his friend the coal he couldn't just die, he had to cope with the emptiness that now resided within him. On hearing about Hermione's miscarriage he had experienced an onslaught of raw emotion. Pain. Pity. All of which should have seen him running to be by his wife's side. But then they were countered by feelings of anger and dare he say it relief, and it was those that saw him apparating to the abandoned rooms of Malfoy manor.

Anger.

At the higher powers.

At Hermione.

And at the root of all of this was...

Relief.

Explaining this was hard. It made him stutter and stumble in his mind. He had wanted the baby no doubt. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Pink and warm, curling at his touch. A child who would carry something of him long after he was dead.

Yet at the same time there was the nagging feeling that this child was not borne from love, well not completely. For somewhere thrown in the mix of things was guilt. Her guilt about what he did not know. He could sense it when he slept next to her in the night, when he knew she was watching him even though he had his eyes closed so tight it hurt. She let slip on occasions talking about how a baby would make things right again. Again? It was that word that made the cogs in his head turn. When had it all turned wrong? What was there to make right?

What had she done?

And that's what made him angry.

What the fuck had she done?

What the fuck had she done that she was too scared to tell him?

What the fuck had she done to screw him over?

He didn't want a baby to make things right.

The tumbler that was held in his hand went flying into the fire. Shards of glass rebounded off the back of the fireplace; some began glowing in the fire, while others littered the floor around him. Pieces everywhere. Broken. Shattered.

Fixable?

Well yes with a touch of magic and a flick of a wand. But his marriage wasn't a simple glass that could be mended with a quick spell. The cracks could not just be resealed and forgotten about. And it was this knowledge that left him cold. He leaned back into the age-old armchair, letting his body sink into the worn leather, not quite ready to face what awaited him.

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"Where is he?"

"Where is he?"

Ginny could only hold her best friend tighter, rocking her in her arms. Sweat and tears soaked through her cotton shirt and the skin on her neck.

"Where is he?"

"Where is he?"

"Shhh." Her hand going round and round in circles on Hermione's back.

"I can't. My baby."

Ginny closed her eyes. She couldn't cry. Someone had to be strong. Someone had to be strong. She had to keep repeating it in her head again, and again, every time Hermione let out another whimper, moan, scream. The room was suffocating her. The weight of anguish and heartache pressed down on her from all directions, slowly breaking her apart. All she wanted to do was crawl into a corner, curl up into a ball and place her hands on her tummy and pray that nothing like this would ever happen to her. It was a nightmare of hospital beds, bloody sheets and healers saying how sorry they were. And all around them were ghosts of a baby who would never exist, who would never grow old and who would never know what it was like to be loved.

Ginny held onto Hermione even tighter. The line dictating who was giving strength to who becoming even less distinct.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The corridor seemed endless, the sign saying Maternity Unit never getting any closer. Draco looked down at his feet. They weren't moving. Black, expensive shoes planted on pale pink tiles. He looked up again and he could just about make out a head of red opposite a head of jet black hair. The two men were on the floor, their backs on the walls, their faces buried in their hands. Never had he wanted to run in the opposite direction so much. To get out into the open and run away from his present and future. He was a selfish bastard. He knew it. Everything he did was in his best interest but for the next few days, perhaps years he had to contend with the fact he wouldn't always get his way. And he couldn't just sulk in the corner or call on 'Daddy'. He had to deal with it, to play the cards he had in his hands. The people he had depending on him. The person who needed him to lean against. He had to at least try to be a better man than his was, to be the man that Hermione believed him to be.

His feet began to move in assured strides. His mouth pulled into a line of grim determination. Harry and Ron having heard his heavy steps got up. The Weasel was already bounding towards him, his right arm ready to throw the first punch.

"Took your fucking time didn't you Malfoy."

Draco simply turned to face him and said, "I've just lost my baby."

The other man's shoulders slumped and for the first time in their lives something passed between them. An unspoken apology and an unspoken word of thanks.

"She's in there Malfoy."

Harry pointed to the door on the left.

Draco entered the room and took his wife from the arms of the other woman.

"I'm sorry Draco."

"I forgive you, Hermione."

And she cried even harder.

But the problem was neither believed his words.

* * *

A/N Thanx to the lovely guys who reviewed the last 2 chapters:

**a, OHsnap, raine8, professor-fidget, w1cked angel, Amortentia, faiya, lemon5225, jesska-14, Gnomie022, colorguard06**

This was a really hard one to write. I'm not too sure about my characterization it's hard trying to have them be in love but still retain their personalities? It either becomes overly fluffy or just doesn't make sense. Urg!

So if uve read it please review it, let me know what you think, it does the heart good...

PS i promoise things get a bit lighter from now on.

Luv Cedar1


	4. She was crying for his heart

**Love Times 5**

**By Cedari**

Inspired by the French film 5 times 2 by François Ozon. It's an amazing film and my story is of the same lay out and some of the plots and ideas are also from it. So this is a **BIG DISCLAIMER** to them so please don't sue me.

Oh and of course one to JK Rowling for the characters

oooooooooooooo – indicates new scene, its quite disjointed like the other chapters

**Love Times 5**

**Chapter 4: She was crying for his heart**

They were spinning in circles. His strong arms encircling her, stopping her from falling on the floor. She was giddy and she was never giddy. Her head was a whirl, thoughts zooming so fast that she wasn't given a second to dissect each and every feeling. She had never felt so happy and yet ironically so out of control, in her entire existence. Hermione Granger was someone who had to have every miniscule detail of her life jotted down, whether it be on lists, in her diary, under the fridge magnets in her kitchen. But at this very moment she had no plans, no writings rather she would be perfectly content to stay like this forever. Feet barely touching the ground, a smile of pure joy stuck on her face.

Yet perhaps for a millisecond the concept that 'things can not always be so good' entered her head but then he kissed her.

His kisses were something of beauty, one never the same as the other yet all wonderful in their own way. From the hard, angry ones to the tender, soul draining ones. One on his hands supported her as he tipped her backwards, causing her to tighten her grip around his neck. So caught up in the way his tongue was caressing hers she hadn't realised he had apparated them both to the honeymoon suite until he finally released her.

His hair was tousled from where her fingers had raked through the strands and his lips were reddened by her lipstick and the intensity of their kisses. A raised eyebrow just added to the overall look.

"Well Mrs Hermione Granger Malfoy how does it feel to be on the dark side."

The glasses of expensive champagne that she had been sampling at the reception had given her a sense of daring and boldness, and reaching behind her she latched on to the zipper of her dress. Pulling it down she revealed the new underwear she had bought with Ginny the week before the wedding.

"Maybe I've always been bad and you just never knew it."

The next thing Hermione knew she was on the bed and his mouth was on her, on her lips, on her neck, on her breast, just about anywhere it could reach.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The stark lighting in the bathroom left nothing to the imagination. Every flaw on her body, her face was replicated in the mirror facing her. Normally she would be filled with the sense that she was just not good enough, but today, tonight all she could think of was how beautiful she was. Or more specifically how beautiful someone else thought she was, from the tips of her stubby toes to the top of her frizz ball excuse for hair. She had come in here on the pretence of freshening up but what she really needed was a breather. A moment to compose herself. From this morning through to ten seconds ago her life has been flying past her in fast forward and she just wanted to stand still. To really enjoy what was coming up. Tonight. The rest of her life. It was a whole new chapter, something she never predicted, something she would never have considered. But here it was all fresh, new pages ready to be written upon.

Draco could never replace him. Yet she truly loved Draco with all her heart and opening the bathroom door she was ready to forget about Ron and all that had come to pass.

However the sight before her put a smile on her face. Her husband, with the self-confessed raging libido, was crashed out on the bed snoring for all of wizarding kind.

Oh well he had the rest of his life to make it up to her and she would make sure he did. Grabbing a change of clothes she decided to head out into the night.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

She wandered through the gardens, the smell of the exotic flowers in the air making her feel somewhat light headed. The grounds were stunning. She hadn't realised until now as she had been so wrapped up in the interior areas that needed organising. But being out here, with nobody but the stars keeping her company she felt like she was in her own private back garden. Her own personal paradise. The lay out was like that of a maze, one turn and you would find yourself having to choose between two or even three different paths, all promising their own individual areas of beauty. Being practical Hermione decided to always take the one veering to the right, so that coming back wouldn't be a problem, and she wasn't to be disappointed. Her way of thinking led her to a spectacular lake, garnished with giant white water lilies. Their petals splayed opened, displaying themselves in their entirety to Hermione. The scene took Hermione's breath away and it was a couple of seconds before she remembered to breathe in.

"Hermione."

The sound of his voice shattered her inner peace, leaving her in a state of panic. How had she not seen him? That red hair was his calling card and as ever it stood out in the darkness like a warning. She had managed to avoid seeing him all night. She didn't think she could take it and she was right, her heart was constricting in her chest and her lungs were on the verge of collapsing.

"I can't do this."

Just about to turn round she was brought to a halt by a determined hand clutching onto her wrist. The grip tightened and she watched as the freckled fingers pushed even harder into her skin. His use of force surprised her and she twisted round to see his face.

He let go immediately.

"Sit down."

Perhaps if they hadn't been friends for so long she would not have felt compelled to sit on the log next to him. Or to partake in the uncomfortable silence that followed, and yet may be in hindsight that was preferable to what happened.

"Do you love him?"

"How's Belinda?"

They asked their questions at the same time but it was only Hermione who replied.

"What?"

"Do you love him?"

He was looking at her, his eyes holding something that she had never seen when he looked at her, a need to be accepted. And it silenced her. Giving him the indication and the opportunity to show her exactly what he needed.

In retrospect she knew she should have pushed him away, but at that precise moment she felt so weak that all she could do was gasp in shock as he smashed his lips onto hers. Years of secret longing and want flooded through her as his lips moved against her own. So this was what it was like to kiss Ron. And it was only that stupid, child like thought that entered her head as she allowed him to guide her down to the grassy bank. Hands began to play with buttons off her shirt. Fingers doing their job so that a rush of cold air hit Hermione's exposed chest within seconds, with clusters of goose pimples erupting on her sensitive skin. However it was soon burning with heat as his passionate mouth latched onto the spot just above her right breast. She automatically placed her hands within his hair, applying enough pressure to tell him that what he was doing was setting off fires within her. When she finally opened her eyes to look at Ron the first thing that she could see was the fading light emanating from the hotel.

Draco.

She suddenly felt sick. He was suffocating her, his body on top of hers, his tongue in her mouth. She needed to stop. He needed to stop. Hands flat against his chest she pushed up. Their mouths separated with a loud smack.

"Hermione?"

His lips were glistening with a film of saliva, her saliva. The urge to wretch was overwhelming. Turning her head away from him she vomited up the thick saliva that had built up in her mouth.

"What's wrong?" His hot, sweaty fingers were pressing into her cheek, making her blood rush to her face and her heart beat like a drum.

"I can't. I can't do this." She scrambled from under him and onto her feet. She could hardly stand, her legs were shaking, raked with desire, guilt and all that came in between.

"Hermione. Please."

He was on his knees in front of her. Why couldn't he have done this six months ago? Why was he begging and pleading now? Why was he always so fucking late at every thing? Hermione felt herself getting angrier and angrier.

"It's too late Ron. Why do you always leave things too late?"

"Don't bother with your excuses. I love him, no matter how I feel about you."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

She crept back into the room, inching her way to the bed so as not to wake him. He had remained in the same position that she had left him in. His legs dangling at one end, his long lean arms over the other. Taking her shoes off she went to lie next to him. She rested her head on the favourite part of his body, his chest, right next to his heart. She could hear it beating.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Soon his pristine white shirt was sporting a wet patch.

For she was crying for his heart and for what she had done to it.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A/N cheesy, not quite cannon, suffered from major writer blockage.

But wanted to finish this story before entering finals just in case I didn't have time later on and it'll just be a lot harder to start again.

Next chapter should be up in a couple of days.

Hope they're ok and u enjoy it!

Luv cedari (nee cedar1 – the 1 was annoying me)


	5. Falling in love really is the best thing

**Love Times 5**

**By Cedari**

**Disclaimer**: me? Own anything? Course not!

Inspired by the French film 5 times 2 by François Ozon. It's an amazing film and my story is of the same lay out and some of the plots and ideas are also from it. So this is a **BIG DISCLAIMER** to them so please don't sue me.

Oh and of course one to JK Rowling for the characters

**Chapter 5: Falling in love really is the best thing.**

She can't tear her eyes away from the neon colours and the streaks of tacky glitter that underline the sign's words. Ron and Belinda. Ron and his fucking Belinda. They don't even go.

Ron and Hermione.

Now that goes. It even works the other way round, Hermione and Ron.

Why couldn't he see that? Why couldn't he just see how much she loved him? Why were his fingers half in and half out of her jeans pocket? She was a muggle as well, but that's where the similarities ended. Belinda was every thing Hermione wasn't; sweet, charming, the word stubborn probably didn't even appear in her dictionary. But you know what the real bitch was, it was the fact she was beautiful. And not in that overly made up way but in that natural way. Glossy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and a pert arse. Hermione squashed her more than generous butt further into her seat.

Oh god and then there was that laugh. That infectious giggle that made everyone else around her laugh with her. With Hermione, her snort only made people turn and look at her in disgust.

Sure she was smart, witty and determined. But that wasn't enough anymore. She was no longer enough for him. The depressing truth made her reach for her third? Fourth? Drink of the night and gulp the fire whiskey in one go. The burning effect the liquid had on her had dulled to what was just a slight warming sensation. Shit, how much had she drunk? Even in her intoxicated state she could feel his worried eyes on her. She turned round nearly falling off her chair in the process. She could read his expression like a book. "_Are you aright_?" asked those bright emerald eyes. He was starting to make his way through the crowd of friends and acquaintances. Hermione shook her head, and as he knew her as well as she did him he stopped. She wanted to deal with this on her own, in her own pissed ass way and he respected that.

Hermione watched as Harry melted away, becoming just another dark haired guy in the mass of people. She turned back to her empty glass and saw her miserable face reflected back at her a hundred times in the finely cut crystal. She looked up in revulsion and caught the eye of the pretty boy barman. The only way she wouldn't be able to see herself for what she was is if she wasn't able to open her eyes. That was the grand plan, it wasn't the best but it was all she could come up with. The smiling bar man came up to her and poured her another shot of his finest. He gave her a wink before moving on to serve another patron. But it wasn't the wink that said, "Come hither", no it was an amused wink. He was laughing at her, like everyone here probably was, together with a huge dollop of pity added in. Hermione hated the thought of people feeling sorry for her and she downed her drink like a seasoned pro.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

As time passed she became increasingly lost in the blur of shapes and colours that surrounded her. Her mind drowning in its home made pool of hurt she wasn't aware of the person that had positioned himself next to her until he spoke.

"Hell. I didn't think you could get any uglier Granger."

She watched the scar contract and relax as the words left his mouth. That slither of scarred tissue had become legend over the years. It started at the corner of his right eye, descended over the plane of his cheekbone and ended at the line of his lips. He loved the attention it got and had been asked by everyone to tell the story behind it. Well everyone except her, she didn't care. No matter how much he had done, how much he had repented, how much he had sacrificed, he was still the same in her eyes.

A non-entity.

"Say what ever you want Malfoy. I can't cry even more than I already have today."

That was where she planned to end her part in the conversation.

"So who should I be thanking?" Draco asked. She was barely listening and that angered him. He wasn't sure why, but it did.

He tracked her gaze back to the Weasel. Surprise, surprise. The tall red head was presently engaged with his lovely fiancée. His left hand had immersed itself into her hair whilst his right held her waist, gently yet firmly. Though the real heartbreaker must be the manner in which he was kissing her for it looked like he could keep going forever.

Draco looked back at the girl by his side. He could practically see the fat tears that were building up behind those cloudy brown eyes.

"Ahh Weasel. Did you actually think he would pick you instead of her?"

He watched as she closed her eyes trying to desperately not to break down in front of him. However he could see her lashes glisten with the tears she could not quite hide.

"Shit you did. Look at her Granger. You're not even worthy of a comparison."

Damage done Draco was about to leave to let her sink in her own cess pit of misery alone, but her next words brought him to a halt.

"For the first time in your wasted life you're right. Who would ever want me?"

And what followed was yet another action he could not quite explain and it would hurt his brain to ponder over it in the days that followed.

His finger swept over her cheek, soaking a stray tear, as he bent over to graze her ear with his mouth, "You never know."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Her head felt liked it was being pecked away by a dozen woodpeckers. She had woken up this morning, her mouth feeling like sandpaper, her breath stinking of day old alcohol and the ghost of Malfoy's finger tracing her skin. To tell you the truth she couldn't for the life of her remember whether that caress had actually happened or whether it was the result of her twisted imagination punishing her for the gallons of alcohol she had consumed. She chose to believe it was the latter; the former was far too bizarre and scary to contemplate. Though in every second of peace she had at work a sudden tingle would shoot up her spine as her brain would replay the moment again. The action being slowed down so she could catch every detail; the closing of her eyes as his lips first graced the shell of her ear, the way his finger lingered before finally moving away from her blushing skin. It would bring a rush of heat to her face to the ridiculous extreme that her secretary questioned whether she wanted the window opened despite the fact that it was the middle of winter. No. She needed to get out. Grabbing her cloak she rushed out of her office, ignoring her secretary who was desperately waving her arms in the air to get her attention. Thus head full of infuriating images of Malfoy and his damn fingers Hermione would never get Ron's

call or his plea to meet with him so they could have a talk.

ooooooooooooooooo

Draco tutted in annoyance at having to clean the spine of yet another book just to see its bloody title. Imelda Grimsberry, the new owner of Flourish and Blotts, had enough business sense to know who to butter up in the wizarding world and who not to. Thus on receiving the crate full of ancient, precious books that were said to reveal further knowledge on the practise of the dark arts she immediately owled Draco Malfoy; inviting him to peruse the collection. Allowing him to claim what he wanted, at the right price of course, before handing the potentially dangerous contents to the appropriate officials at the ministry. However she had failed to tell him that for the last thousand years they had been submerged in the cellars of a family with too much money and greed and too little brain to ever realise what they had had in their possession, and so were coated in a thick layer of grime and dust. To Draco's disgust, out of fear of damaging the books with a common cleaning spell, the corner of his sleeve was now stained with a grey like gunk that smelt vaguely of rat's droppings. Though perhaps even more nauseating than animal excrement was that he couldn't get Granger's face out of his head. The vision of her frizzy hair was enough to distract him from fully exploiting his current situation. The answers to the most debated questions in the academic wizarding circles could very well be within his grasps yet all he could think about were clear tears leaking from brown eyes. Shit. He threw the book in his hands on the floor and could feel the anger inside of him somewhat subdued with the resounding smack it made with the concrete flagstones.

" Mr Malfoy?" Her abnormally low voice floated down the stairs and he could hear her stilettos clacking with each step she made. A round face topped with a greying mop of hair appeared from round the corner. Her thin lips slid into a frown when she saw the mess the Malfoy brat had made with her precious books. However when she realised he was staring at her expression she forced herself to smile. He may be a brat but he was a rich one.

"Are the books not to your liking Mr Malfoy?"

"No they're fine. But I'm finding it difficult to concentrate in these cramped conditions. Could you transfer them to your upstairs office. I'll be back in the afternoon."

ooooooooooooooooooo

"Malfoy"

"Granger. The hung-over look really doesn't suit you. If I were you I'd go back home and crawl into bed and stay there for the next few days."

"Charming as always."

"Ah still upset over Weasley?"

"Piss off"

"Crude and unattractive. I wonder if he knows what he's missing."

"Then why are you still talking to me? Shouldn't you have left ten minutes ago?"

"Perhaps but I suppose in a strange way I enjoy insulting you."

"Perhaps you need to get some hobbies."

"Perhaps. Shall we continue this thrilling conversation at 'The Royal Niffler' for the cold seems to be adding to your already unpleasant features."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

They both knew that in five minutes they could be on her bed, their hands on hot, smooth flesh not caring that the blinds were open and the neighbours were getting an eyeful. But Hermione was not that kind of girl and Draco knew that, so they remained on her doorstep staring at each other.

"Well I better get going."

Her fingers were curled around the door knob and she was about to twist it open when two large hands grabbed her face and forced her to come face to face with their owner. His lips were curled into a scowl and his eyes were dark with the consuming emotions of anger and lust.

"You win this time Granger."

Before she had a chance to gloat his lips were on hers with his tongue invading her warm mouth. Their courtship had been a game, seeing who would be the first to make the new step towards an adult relationship. Who needed who. Up till now Hermione had been winning by a point but with his hands currently sliding down her arms to entwine his fingers with hers she couldn't give a fuck. All she could think about was how good he tasted and how her legs were starting to shake. She was getting dizzy from the lack air and yet she couldn't bear to tear her lips away from his.

For at that moment they were tottering on the invisible edge that came before being swept away by that whirlwind of opposing joy and pain that described every affair. God only knew where it would spit them out, but when they finally broke apart and he whispered, "I need you," she tightened her grip.

And they made that final jump together. Falling in love really is the best thing.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo **THE END** ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

there we have it folks!

If u have time, even if u haven't reviewed any of the other chapters, id like it if u let me know if u enjoyed it as a whole, or hated it completely. Reviews always make my day.

NEhow hope yall all have a lovely summer!

Luv Cedari


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